The Sequel's Prequel
by The Second Side of Happiness
Summary: Yes the title is my way of attempting to be funny haha The nations need a way to get to know their populations. Once they find that way, how to pay for it?
1. World Summit

**WARNING: By clicking on the link that led you to this story, you shall be exposed to pointless idiocy, human names, and food. Lots of different kinds.**

**A/N This idea came from me ranting about how I needed ice-cream while eating pancakes with Canada-kun. . . He likes muh pancakes but then again, he's just awesome and polite. . . LOL pail, I wrote this while listening to Yellow Submarine by the Beatles XDD**

**THE BEATLES! FFFFFFFF~**

**Disclaimer: Only own the idea**

_**Chapter One:**_

_**In Which the Nations Agree It's a 'Great' Idea**_

_**(Until The Nations Realize Something of Utter Importance)**_

"Alright, we're obviously not getting anywhere yet again, so I'm going to try to bring up a topic I've had on my mind but never really wanted to voice. Why now? Because I'm desperate for some form of forward movement." Germany close to shouted in his deep voice. Italy made a small 'Ve~' noise in amazement as everybody went silent and Romano only rolled his eyes. Spain smiled at the gesture and whispered "so cute, Lovi~" to him before Germany continued. How eye-rolling was cute, only Spain will ever really know.

"We should discuss ways to get to know our populations better. How many of us can say we really know this generation's hobbies and personalities and all of those other important things?" Nobody raised their hands, as expected. "And plus, this way we can report back to our bosses and update them on how to make each nation, the geographical versions of course, happier and easier to live in. Now, who has an idea?" For a few moments, everyone was silent. They just stared at Germany like they had just seen him for the first time. Spain waved his hand in the air as France and Romano lost their grip. They knew this was going to end very strange.

"We could open a giant academy and each nation could invite their Top Ten of each grade level from nine to twelve and then the Nation's themselves could register as high school students." France and Romano had long ago scooted away to save themselves but had actually began to ponder the idea.

"Spain-nii~ That's a great idea!" Italy was first to speak up.

"Actually, that does sound like a good idea. It would be like a gauken AU." Japan murmured that last part to himself.

"All in favour of a giant international high school, raise your hand!" Germany commanded, ready with a pencil to jot down the number of hands in the air. He didn't really need to though, the majority was vast with only a few objections.

"Where are we going to get the money to build something like that?" Austria and Switzerland objected at the same time. Austria was a tad more quiet about it though.

"I'm sure we can find something. Perhaps a bake-sale?" Gilbert snickered.

"Gilbert?"

"Yes, bruder?"

"Where did you come from?"

"Ah, the Awesome Me can appear like magic." He exaggerated this with wave his hands around, almost hitting Austria bringing on the wrath of Hungary.

"Well, next time you chose to appear and wave your hands around like an idiot, close the room doors." Prussia smiled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his head. Germany stacked his papers.

"Does anyone have any other ideas on how to raise money?" He looked around the thinking room.

"I like the idea of a bake-sale, Doitsu." Germany looked down at the smiling Italian that Gilbert was suddenly hanging off of.

"Yeah, Luddy! Italy likes it, I think we should do it." He was forced off said Italian as Romano elbowed him in the ribs extra hard.

"Off my brother, bastard." He growled before sitting back down.

"Indeed, Prusse's idea sounds lovely. A giant world bake-sale." France chuckled at the idea. Then smiled darkly as his mind shifted to make it a dirty bake-sale.

Germany sighed, exasperated. "Who else wants in on this crazy scheme?" Close to everybody raised their hands. "So, how are we going to do this?"

"First, we need to decide who's house we're doing this at." Switzerland crossed his arms irritably.

"How about we do a traveling bake-sale?" Everyone looked towards Greece, surprised the napping nation was able to keep up. Said nation rubbed his eyes and shrugged his shoulders as the cat that came with him wandered between him and Egypt.

"I like that idea." England rubbed his chin.

"So who's house are we starting at?" Switzerland rearranged his own question.

"Hmm, how about Germany's so the rest of us have time to prepare. It _was_ his brother who suggested it, afterall." Turkey smiled innocently as Germany sent him a death glare.

"Yeah, bruder! It can start at your house! We can make lots and lots of wursts!" Gilbert hung himself off his brother's neck.

"Can I help? I can make pasta!" Italy chimed in clapping his hands.

"No, idiot, we need to prepare for when its our turn." Romano grabbed his brother's arm and tugged him out of the room.

"Uh, I guess the meeting is over." Spain said quickly offering an irresistible smile before following the twins.

"Oh, Anglettere, I feel so horrible for you~" France teased before taking his own leave.

"What? Just 'cause you can cook better doesn't mean a bloody damn thing, you stupid frog!" England shouted back before stomping out of the room.

The rest of the nations proceeded to tease one another before going through the same doors that were actually abused by the angrier nations that left first.

_**WURSTS!**_

"Alright, bruder, lets see. What can we make other than wursts that our people enjoy?" Gilbert came downstairs in a wife beater with the Prussian flag design to keep sleeves out of the way. Ludwig came down wearing a plain grey wife beater. Gilbird fluttered down closely behind with a yellow flag that said 'PIYO~!' in flashy white letters.

"Hmm. . . Potatoes?" Ludwig gave his brother a once over decided this was going to be hell.

"Well, no shit, but what else? What is usually served in dinners?" Gilbert was close to whimpering with impatience. "Ooh! I know! Lets make apfelpfannkuchen!" Gilbert's shiny eyes were met with Ludwig's judging eyes. "What?"

"You would want pancakes. . ." He sighed but began looking for the recipe.

"Not just pancakes, apple pancakes!" Gilbert clapped.

"What else? Might as well as look for it while I'm searching through the cookbooks." Ludwig pulled out three big books and a box of recipe cards.

"Hmm," He stole a book and began skimming. He stopped and pointed to something tht slightly resembled America's doughnuts. "Lebkuchen."

"No more breads." Germany placed a bookmark next to the recipe.

"Soup?"

"Why not."

"German soup balls. . . Can I go look that up to see what it looks like really quick?" Gilbert grinned devilishly before rushing the computer. Ludwig heard his brother's immature laughter as he book marked that recipe, too. "Bruder, that looks disgusting!" He wiped away the tears. "And not in the dirty way either."

"Shut up, idiot. They're delicious."

"That's what she said."

"Stop hanging out with America."

Gilbert stole one other cookbook.

"Need some meat. . ." He paused on a page, but thought better of it and moved on. "No veil." Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Mattie would be upset." Gilbert stuck his tongue out at his younger brother. "Falscher sounds good. . ."

The two fought and argued over recipes until they had a total of fifty.

"Now for a date. I say about a week. Eight recipes per day. From nine to eight." Ludwig was surprised his brother was actually thinking reasonably. Usually he'd bee saying they should be prepared by noon and close up early around six so he could visit Canada.

"Sounds good, date?"

"TOMORROW!" There goes the reasonable thinking.

"How about two weeks from now?" Ludwig pleaded with his older brother.

"Fine." The ex-nation huffed.

**YAY! Next chapter is the official German Bake-Sale! What to call it. . .**

**Holy shit, this is WAY off from what I had planned. . . Stupid Switzerland had to bring up a really good point of how to pay for all this. -puffs cheeks-**

**Whatever.**

**This might be fun. . .**

**REVIEWS MEAN GILBO WON'T EAT ALL THE FOOD AND WE GET VISITS FROM OTHER NATIONS! :DDD**

**TSS of H**


	2. Prueβen and Deutschland

**A/N: -sob- Okay, thats not new, I've been -sob-ing because my computer froze, shut down, and did NOT save this chapter. I was so close to done. It was really close to how I wanted it to be. . . But. . . I look away for a second to look up a German recipe to make a cheesy moment and freaking Midget (computer's name) decides she hates me. . . Ugh**

**P.s. Even though there is an extreme lack of reviews, favs, and sotry alerts, I will continue to write this story and post because I don't give a damn! I love this story too much~ ^^**

**Disclaimer: I own only a cheap ass computer. . .**

_**CHAPTER 2:**_

_**GERMANY AND PRUSSIA**_

_**DER GROSSE DEUTSCH BACKEN VERKAUF!**_

"Gilbo!" Gilbert was attacked from the side from his overly-excited Spanish friend. Who was soon followed by a lecherous Frenchman.

"Hello, Gilbert. How are you?" He slithered up to him like a snake and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Francis, get away from him." Came the higher than it meant to be pitch of Matthew Williams.

"Mattie!" Gilbert escaped his friends' clutches and attacked the Canadian.

"I am still here, bastard." Gilbert blinked in surprise and glanced over at the pouting Italian.

"Oh, Lovi, it's not like we forgot." Spain walked over to him with his hands in his pockets. Gilbert could see his fingers twitching. Lovino most likely made a no-contact rule. He never said anything to Gilbert though, who smirked and clung to Lovino for dear life.

"Now, how the hell are we supposed to forget thee most annoying person is here, hmm?" He received a punch to the face.

"Off, stupid older potato bastard! And since you're old and no longer a nation, that makes you a rotting potato bastard! Haha!" Lovino stood with fists on his hips laughing like he was the world's greatest comedian. Francis rolled his eyes and Gilbert stuck his tongue out at the younger nation.

"Lovi, LOOK!" All too quickly, Lovino was being dragged away to God knows where by Antonio. The rest wouldn't be surprised if he had whiplash.

"Tell me, Gil, did you set-up a turtle zoo somewhere in that amusement park?" Francis quirked an eyebrow.

"Yep! I knew Lovino would just _love_ me afterwards." And then they heard a "I'm GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU, GILBERT!"

"C'mon, Mattie, I made sure to set-up some pancake stands." He slipped his hand into his boyfriend's and led him through the thickening crowd.

"Hmm, now to find some l'amour." Francis rubbed the stubble on his chin and wandered off.

_**WURSTS~!**_

"Doitsu~!" Ludwig was attacked from the side by a very happy Italian.

"Hallo." Italy pulled himself away and sniffed at the air.

"Ahh~ what is that?" He pointed to the delicious smelling red substance.

"Oh, um, marinated tomatoes. I thought maybe you would like them. And since they're a German recipe they would fit." Italy squealed with delight as Ludwig served him a plate, attempting to hide the blush.

"Grazie, Doitsu." He placed a quick peck on his cheek before eating the tomatoes. "Mmm, I think even fratello would like these. And Spain-nii. They would love these." He complimented smiling. He walked over to the chef and was no doubt complimenting him to his heart's content because when he came back, he carried two to-go bags. One labeled Antonio, the other Lovino. Atleast he knew to use human names.

"One for Spain-nii and one for fratello." He smiled and entwined his fingers with Ludwig's before they set-off in a search for said nations.

_**WURSTS~!**_

"Isn't it delicious? It always has been my favorite type that Westen makes." Gilbert and Matthew had ended up eating at a pancake stand and ordering German raspberry pancake. Topped off with raspberries piled lightly on top of whipped cream and a little butter at the bottom. "And here's some awesome raspberry syrup. Sure, nothing like your delicious maple, but," he shrugged off the rest of the sentence.

"Gil, this is delicious! I want the recipe." Matthew's eyes widened in love.

"If I give it to you, are you gonna run-off with it and leave me?" He smiled at the blond.

"I just might." They both laughed.

"Hey, Gilbert, have you seen Lovino and Antonio?" The precious moment was ruined by his brother. The Gilbert remembered the shout from earlier.

"Last I checked, they were at the trap I set. I the amusement park. There's a turtle exhibit." He stole a bite of Matthew's pancakes. Matthew glared at him and pulled the delicacy towards him.

"Lovino is going to kill you." He said before wandering in that general direction. Suddenly, Gilbert's phone began to vibrate. He checked the caller ID.

"Well speak of the devil. Hello, enjoying the reptiles?" He smirked into the phone.

"Gilbert, I'm watching you. I see you right now and have every right in my mind tied up and gagged so they can't get in my way and I can kill you. Fucking Antonio now has five new pet turtles. . . None of them are fucking small you stupid pancake bastard."

"You sound way too calm." Gilbert began looking around, fearing for his life.

"I'm going to remain that way until I get home. There I shall explode and you better hope that Antonio takes all phones away so I can't order a hit." Gilbert swallowed the lump of fear in his voice and nodded.

"Good, Gilbert. Now, I suggest texting your tomato bastard friend and telling him to do as I told you a few seconds ago. Hide or destroy all phones. Have a nice day with Matthew." Gilbert slowly shut the phone and reopened it. Only focusing on how quickly he can text Antonio.He snapped his phone shut and continued to eat his pancakes, ignoring the concerned looks from Mattie.

_**WURSTS~!**_

"Doitsu, Doitsu!" He pulled on 'Doitu's' arm. "The tomatoes are getting cold. I'm going to take them home for Spain-nii and fratello to eat later! OR maybe they are already home. I should stop by all houses." Ludwig smiled down at the determined look on his face. He leaned down and kissed it away.

"Wrinkles don't suit you." Feliciano beamed up at that and threw his arms around his neck. He leaned a little farther up on his toes and pressed a light kiss to Ludwig's lips.

"I love you, Doitsu."

"Love you, too." And then Feliciano was off. He waved from the sports car he drove everywhere and sped away. Meanwhile, Ludwig began to think how to convince Feli to get a safer car.

_**WURSTS~!**_

Ludwig and Gilbert sighed simultaneously as the day came to a draw and they retired home. From there, they went and just flopped on to the couch.

"So, Westen, what happened today?" Gilbert seemed to pull two beers out of thin air. Though, knowing him, there was a cooler under the couch. He handed one to his brother and already was sipping out of the other.

"It was nice. I took Feliciano through all the foods, we stopped at the amusement park. How about you?" He took a drink before looking at his older brother.

"Don't be surprised if I disappear." He chuckled.

"Romano threatening you because of the turtles." It was a statement. Not anywhere near a question. Gilbert smiled like it was all a joke.

"Other than that, how was your day with Matthew?"

"Fun, I need the raspberry pancake recipe though. He really likes it." Gilbert looked down into the now empty bottle and frowned.

"I'll look for it. I'll also have to look for the marinated tomatoes recipe. Romano will probably storm this house asking why I dare serve something so delicious and something about how we're unworthy." The brothers cracked a smile at that.

"Well, just think about it! You still have the rest of the week of this!" Gilbert reached for another beer.

"What about you?"

"Simple. I'm hiding out at Matthew's. Turns out there's this tiny place called New Prussia. I think I'll stay there for awhile."

"'Cause Lovino so won't know to look there."

"Shut up, brother."

_**END!**_

**Why was that so hard? I had chapter three done like five hours before this one! D'x no more of these two for awhile. . .**

**Whatever, review, for Netherlands is next!**

**TTS of H~**

**P.s. WHO SPEAKS DUTCH? :D**


	3. Nederland

Netherlands smiled proudly at how the set up was moving along. Almost all of the vendors were completely ready! Things had moved along much quicker than he had expected. He smiled at Belgium as she came up beside him, Luxembourg attactched to her hip.

"Broer, everything looks great!" She smiled at the scene before her. Netherlands turned to face her.

"C'mon let's go get some coffee and cocoa." He ruffled their little brohter's hair and began towards his home a little ways away.

_**OLLIEBOLEN**_

"Broer, you really should set up a coffee stand. No, multiple coffee stands!" Luxembourg had accidently had a cup of coffee instead and Netherlands had ended up with his cocoa.

"I still don't understand how you got those two confused." Belgium said from behind her styrofoam cup.

"Neither do I." Holland placed a firm grip on the smallest of the three's head to keep him from jumping up and down and squealing. The squealing could't be helped, much to Netherlands's irratation.

"Can I have some more~?" Luxembourg was not allowed coffee for obviious reasons.

". . . Fine, Luca. I really don't see what harm can come of you having a little more caffeine in your already caffeinated body." He sighed as the small boy ran to the coffee pot.

"Adrianous, you now he isn't even supposed to have one cup let alone two." Belgium raised an eyebrow at him.

"Eh, I feel like being generous. It _is _festival time you know." He smirked before leaving to light up a cigarette outside. His little break was cut short when a flying Italian hit him.

"Holland!" Veneziano hugged him tightly before he was removed by Germany.

"Hallo, Netherlands."

"Hallo, Germany." Netherlands scanned the area after the greeting. If the northern half of Italy was here, than the southern half was as well. And if the southern half was here, that meant Spain was here. And most likely very uncomfortable. He smirked as he saw said Spaniard with an equally as uncomfortable South Italy. His smirk disappeared as the Spaniard's face suddenly lit up. He furrowed his eyebrows and wandered their way.

"Hello, Spain." He watched the corners of his mouth twitch. This gave away to the Dutch that he was faking his happiness now.

"Oh, hola, Netherlands. Lovely bake sale." Netherlands offered up a afake smile when he saw his sister glare at him. He read the 'keep incivil or die' in that glare.

"I'm glad your enjoying it. I hope you can find something that pleases you. You as well, Romano."

"Oh, oh yes. I'm sure I'll be able to find something. I am easily pleased from time to time." Spain forced out. Romano looked from one to the otherr and almost choked ont he dark aura suddenly engulfing the two and anything surrounding them.

"I'm glad to hearr that."

"Yes, yes."

Romano coughed. "Oi, Netherlands, do you have a soccer ball or something I can kick around." At the simple word 'soccer', the two nations blood boiled.

"Speaking of voetball, I hear one of your players was, erm, injured in the facial area for attempting theft of the world cup trophy."

"Yes, well, you know how youngsters are. Atleast we won it." Spain and Netherlands shared a cut up laugh.

"Do you have a damn ball or what?" Both nations looked down at the southern half of Italy and Romano thought he was going to die for a moment there.

"Spain, I challenge you to a rematch."

"You realize it won't change the fact that you suck and I'm obviously better."

"So, are you flaking out? How pathetic." Spain stopped smiling then.

"Bring it on, Mr. Orange."

"Alright, Mr. Red." _What the hell kind of names are those?_ Romano thought shaking his head.

_**OLLIEBOLEN**_

"I still can't believe you two idiots are doing this." Belgium shook her head and rubbed hher temples next to and equally disbelieving Romano.

"There idiots who can't seem to stop fighting. What did you expect when you put them in the same goddamned nation?" Belgium shrugged.

"You're right. What was I thinking?" They looked over as Iceland blew the whistle to shut them up. He had agreed to be one of the referees. Along with his brother and the rest of the Nordics.

This is how they got tied into the mess:

"_Spain, I challenge you to a rematch."_

"_You realize it won't change the fact that you suck and I'm obviously better."_

"_So, are you flaking out? How pathetic." Spain stopped smiling then._

"_Bring it on, Mr. Orange."_

"_Alright, Mr. Red." _

_The Norics watched with interest at the petiful bickering._

"_Really, you two are still arguing over that?" Denmark spoke up. He instantly backed down at the death glares shot his way. Norway snorted._

"_I think a friendly rematch won't hurt."_

"_Uh, I really don't think anything about that match will be friendly, Norway." Finland luaghed nervously._

"_Fine, you guys can be the referees since you feel such a strong need to butt into our business." Netherlands pointed to them. _

They all sent a glare Denmark's way.

"What?"

"If you hadn't said anything, we wouldn't be stuck doing this!" Norway shouted at him, waving a little flag in the air. Iceland blew a whistle to shut them up. Out on the field, the two had chosen their next victims as teammates. On Spain's side was Italy, Germany(whi was actually Italy's victim) and Denmark(yes, he hadd indeed managed to get out of referee-ing). Netherlands had England, Prussia, and Romano. The poor dear had been forced to leave the sidelines as a simple onlooker. But, he was looking forward to kicking Spain's ass for bringing on this issue to the rest of the nations. Other nations nearby found a soft spot in the grass and settled in to watch. Sealand was there, but to try and distract his older brother.

When the game began, nobody really put all that much effort into making it competitive except for the Italys, Netherlands, and Spain. On more than one occasion, England was carded for runing off the field and trying to strangle Sealand. On other ocassions, Belgium tried to convince the referees to card her brother. He was oh so very confused by this. Later, he would learn it was because he didn't keep things civil enough.

Spainalmost died a few times as Romano aimed the ball straight for his head whenever he was goalie. More than once, Italy killed England for trying to get out of the game. Italy was carded for that.

In the end, it wasa tie of 0-0 because both teams were too busy trying to create world war three over the game. Netherlands and Spain were the only ones left on the field as everyone else sat around and waited for the two to give up. They were pretty much hanging off of eachother, sweating, panting, and still going after the ball.

Belgium leaned over and whispered into Romano's ear. She then leaned t-in the opposite direction and asked Luxembourg to get them something. She smiled as she watched her idiotic brother and stupid frienf battle over something so simple.

The two really did not know when to give up. Netherlands was about to kick the ball when he flew to the side. Something had hit his face. _Hard._ he looked over to see if the Spanish bastard was cheating, but found him sitting up as well, a great big glob of red on his face. Netherlands carefully brought his hand up to the contact spot. Something cool and wet was there. He sniffed his finger that had the unknown object on it and burst into laughter. It was tomato! He looked oover and saw his sister and Romano both had a basket of the fruit. Romano was pelting them at the most likely dead Spaniard and Belgium began her own bambardment.

The reamining nations saw they were missing out on the fun and stood to join in destroying the two soccer freaks.

Spain crawled over and stole the ball, to help shield his face. Laughing like a maniac. For once in her life, Belgium saw Netherlands smile sitting next to Spain. She smiled, delighted at the accomplishment and pulled out a camera, knowing this would NEVER happen again.

_**OLLIEBOLEN**_

That night, as Netherlands sat on his couch drying his hair from the shower, Belgium waltzed in.

"Oh, brother~" she sang.  
"What, Belle?" He looked up as she waved the picture in his face.

"See how happy you would be if you just got along with Antonio?" HE reached for the picture but she pulled it away.

"I would never want to get along with him." He crossed his arms and replied childsihly. Belgium sighed.

"I figured you would say that. That's why i'm going home to frame this and put it on my wall for the world to see~" She skipped out of his house, in the perfect mood.

Adrianous groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"Damnit."

**OKAY! So, this turned out much different then the one that was destroyedd by the computer. Well, soccer was in that one too but it was very brief and Spain nearly died because the Italies did this double kick thing and nailed him in the face. Netherlands had nothing to do with it xD**

**Alas! Our dearest Englishman is next! Yeah, another one I have to rewrite because it was destroyed (more than four hundred mother fucking words GONE! More than four hundred fucking words of insanity ensuing in ENGLAND with MAGIC! FFFFFUUUUUHHHHHKKKKK! Kill me now~) .-.**

**Until next update,**

**TSS of H~**


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